Our story was lost somewhere and we know that..
or much to the effect, I swell to know...
the tangent of dreams, the soft cool touch of skin
is there more to the taste of me, for men?
Wine stained lips swing and sway some...Memory
Through the daze gardens we dwell in muck
we touch the rain dew leaves, and squint
at the seaming glitter of the birthing sun
and we strip our heavy clothes off....
oh what season, what perfect reason and view for a fuck